


Say It

by Aspidities



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Angst, Breeding, But Daddy!Lexa is, Daddy Kink, Dubious Consent, F/F, G!P, Impregnation, Knotting, Poor Anya ain’t gettin any, Smut, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-02-06 10:47:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12815898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aspidities/pseuds/Aspidities
Summary: Happy post-Thanksgiving everyone! Today, I decided I’d like to see Babygirl Clarke stuffed deeper than a Thanksgiving turkey in an alleyway by Daddy Lexa while poor Anya watches. So I wrote it.Seasons Greetings!(It’s smut, pure and simple. Don’t read if you’re offended by swinging dick Lexa and daddy kink.)





	Say It

The street was dim, and the lights had just started to come on as Clarke hurried to the restaurant, slipping from the warm interior of her Uber into the cool of the autumn air. She wasn’t dressed for the season; she rarely was, preferring the simpler clothes that summer provided, and her outfit was hastily thrown together. She looked smart, still, in a kicky little black strapless cocktail dress, but her thoughts weren’t on her looks at this moment.

She had a second chance tonight. A chance to make things…more decent, more stable in her romantic life. And she needed to not think about passion or intensity or someone who made her feel all of those things in heaps and bounds, because she needed to be good. Tonight she would be Clarke, the artistic design head of her mother’s Arcadia Corp, and the perfect choice for a wise, sophisticated older alpha like the one she was meeting tonight. She would not be Clarke, ex-girlfriend to said alpha’s former protégé and current on-market playboy of the local female alpha BDSM scene. She was focused on arriving early, _not_ late. Anya would probably be on time, and that meant she needed to be early. She’d already given the older woman enough reason to doubt her interest in this date, especially given the intrusion of a certain someone….

“Going somewhere nice, little girl?”

The familiar voice turned her insides into a jellied substance, perhaps a pink and shamefully girly one. As if summoned by Clarke’s unwilling thoughts, the tall, brooding CEO of H.E.D.A Enterprises appeared from the shadows of the alley beside the restaurant, sliding her phone into the pocket of her sleek suit jacket, black like a panther. Her smirk was seven stories tall, and her lipstick was red as blood.

Clarke re-squared her shoulders, forcing back the shudder that the alpha’s presence always caused in her lower regions. “You know I am, Lexa. You know exactly where I’m going. Don’t play games right now, I’m not-“

“The only one playing games is you.” Lexa pointed out, savagely, her seductive eyes flashing fire as she stepped forward. “You know what I want.”

“I can’t do that.” Clarke protested, and forced herself to try to put meaning and truth behind her words, even as every inch of omega inside her quivered and cried out for the alpha’s presence and she leaned closer. “You don’t want a relationship with me, Lexa, you’ve proved that before. Remember our trip to Mount Weather?”

She noticed approvingly the slightest flinch in the CEO’s stone expression, and soldiered on with renewed fervor. “Anya wants a _relationship_. She’s around, Lexa. Not gallivanting off like you on the next exciting new project. And she’s stable, and older and-“

“-Not me.” Lexa finished, taking a second step forward, and the alpha scent curled suggestively into Clarke’s helpless nostrils, speaking of fir trees and wood fires and sweet promises exchanged by starlight. “She’s _not_ _me_ , Clarke, and nothing you can say will change that.”

“Stop that.” She shook her head, golden tresses tumbling loose from her messy bun. The closeness was making her mind spin.

“No, because I’m _right_ , first of all, and second of all, because you’re signaling. You’ve been signaling since you stepped into the alley. You want me. You’ll always want me, even on your way to go see her.”

The green eyes of the brunette alpha glittered triumphantly, and before Clarke knew it, there was a hand on her lower back pulling her roughly forward. She stumbled, and Lexa caught her, drawing her ever closer. Clarke looked into Lexa’s troubled, swirling eyes and wondered vaguely if this was what it felt like to be trapped by an anglerfish; to be drawn from unknowing blackness by a golden, tantalizing light and be bound forever by the jaws of your fate. She tore away, stepping back, but her hand brushed against the brunette’s and her skin sang with the nearness as she shivered.

“Just because I’m an omega doesn’t mean-“ she tried, but Lexa only laughed, and the mocking sound made her shoulders sag with futility.

“This isn’t about you being an omega, not at all. You’re the most alpha-like omega I’ve ever met. You could resist anyone’s pull.” Lexa‘s voice had a thick, almost proud quality as she stepped closer again, following Clarke’s retreat with pointed footsteps. “You did it all the time when you came to negotiate terms for the Arcadia takeover; my office is full of alphas and you ignored almost every one. _Almost_. You choose to fall for mine. Because you want me.”

Lexa leaned even closer and her breath whispered across Clarke’s ear, lighting up every nerve ending along the way. “You want your big bad Daddy to take care of you.”

 _Fuck, that’s not fair._ Clarke thought wildly as her knees weakened and she searched for purchase behind her, groping fingers only meeting the brick of the wall. _That’s not fair how wet that instantly gets me, how she knows what to say…..fuck, not fair at all._  Lexa was exploiting her weakness, her deepest shame, and her darkest desire, and she knew no one else ever could take her to that same place the way the angry-eyed brunette alpha could. She knew her eyes were wide and dark, and she knew her body was betraying her again, sending deep lusty waves of her perfumed rain and ocean scent to Lexa’s hungry, awaiting nostrils.

“Lexa…” She realized she was whining, already, and closed her mouth on a gulp. “We _can’t_. She’s on her way, she might see-“

“Let her see.” The alpha insisted, darkly, stepping closer and putting her palms flat on either side of Clarke’s shoulder’s, pinning her to the brick wall. Her lower half ground hard against the omega, letting her feel the fullness and thickness of her growing, engorging shaft. Clarke lolled her head and moaned, unable to stop herself as Lexa’s body made contact and her thighs involuntarily parted under her dress.

“Let her see what a good little slut you are for me.” Lexa suggested, filthy and savage, and it ignited dark, deeply hidden things inside of Clarke that she would prefer not to admit, but here, in the alley, with Lexa’s scent all around and her fingers already working at the alpha’s zipper as if they had a mind of their own….she was giving in to the darkness, dancing with the anglerfish, letting it subsume her consciousness until it ate her alive.

And, as Lexa’s lips descended, she surrendered to utter devouring.

Lexa kissed like a flash flood; sudden, overwhelming rushes. She was everywhere at once, her hands cupping and molding and her fingers moving up, past Clarke’s shaking, often-bruised knees, to her thighs, slipping them further apart and allowing the keening length of her thigh to muscle between. Her body was heat and thunder and a summer of sizzling, wild feelings, flying by on the wings of the storm. She was a mustang on the prairie, and Clarke was riding, kissing back. She was running her hands up that wavy, secret-inspiring mass of dark brown hair, clutching at Lexa’s strong neck and guiding her like a horse as the taller woman snorted and reared against her, a driven animal.

Lexa’s hands were strong but light, nimble and quick. She was moving the black fabric of Clarke’s dress inexorably upwards, past the lace of her panties, dragging torturously over her ass with a light spring as the nylon bunched above her waist. Clarke needed to protest, had to protest for the sake of decency, and she wiggled emphatically, making a little ‘mmf’ noise to express concern, but Lexa was sliding her hands up her thighs and kissing her with such determination, such expressive force, that she felt herself allowing it even as her mind raced desperately with the anxiety of it.

The problem was, Clarke was already wet, and she knew it. She always was, in Lexa’s presence, and the alpha could play her like a fiddle. The swollen bud of her clit was responsive, sensitive to the slightest brush, and she sometimes had to cross her legs just to try to dampen her ardor, but it never worked. Her body whispered and ached to be claimed, to be taken. Lexa brought out a flood in her, and she knew what the alpha would find if her ghosting fingers managed to creep into her panties: she would be both insufferable and unstoppable once she noticed the seeping wetness there.

Clarke broke the kiss, panting raggedly and intending to force Lexa away, to try to resolve her feelings for the dark alpha some other way than fucking in a dark alley, but the brunette was already gasping in delight and triumph as her fingers met the lace of Clarke’s sodden excuse for panties. “So wet for me,” she purred, and her voice sent shivers and shockwaves through the omega’s body.

“Lexa, don’t-“

But she didn’t know what she wanted to stop. Her hips were rolling irresistibly forward, seeking more from the alpha’s questing, trailing fingers, and her hands were clenched against the brick of the building behind her, as her head thrashed wildly. The brunette let her lips graze against the beating heart in Clarke’s sweat-glazed neck, and that only stroked the flames higher.

“You want me. Don’t try to deny it. I’ll send you off to Anya with my cum dripping from your cunt.” The filthy words were harsh in her ear, but Lexa’s touch was soft as her hands peeled the soaked fabric down Clarke’s thighs, parting for her without question. The alpha didn’t need to be soft, didn’t need to go slow, but she enjoyed the tease as much as the claiming, and Clarke knew that, even as her body, her bones, ached to be filled.

She let out a high, arching gasp as a finger curled inside of her, thrusting articulately to her swollen inner ridges, building the pleasure with easy, shallow strokes. Lexa’s breath in her ear was only making her drip more, open farther as the alpha purred and groaned in smug satisfaction to feel her wet and waiting. She added a second finger, and Clarke grabbed at Lexa’s shoulders, her legs unconsciously slipping open wider, noting in shame the look of victory on the alpha’s face.

“You’re my _good_ girl. My good, good girl and I’m your filthy, awful Daddy.”

Clarke shuddered at the words, her mouth dropping open in an unconscious moan. Her body wasn’t fighting the alpha anymore; on the contrary she was opening for her, pulling her closer, clutching at her lean, well-muscled form. When the sound of the zipper interrupted her wanton moans, her eyes flew open and she looked down to see Lexa fishing herself out, the considerable length of alpha cock before her throbbing, wet and dripping with pre-cum. She gasped, feeling her body flutter and her mouth water even as her brain raced with the anxiety of being caught.

“Lexa! We can’t! Not here, not-“

“Yes, yes here.” Lexa was insistent, kissing her neck and her clavicle and her shoulders, and she was spinning her around, pushing Clarke to face the wall as she parted her thighs and pulled her hips forward with deft, easily instinctive motions. “I need you. Right here.”

 _I need you too_ , Clarke’s body screamed. It had been too long, far too fucking long since the last time they’d had sex, but her mind was screaming too, screaming about dignity and consent, and big red flags, and the possibility that Anya was coming up the street past the alley right now. But the fear and the heightened anticipation only made her wetter, and as Lexa’s cock nudged and bobbed against her entrance, she nearly wept in the need of it, even as another caveat came to her red-hazed mind.

“Condom!” She ground out, trying to push Lexa back with one hand reaching behind her. “We need…I’m not on suppressants…”

There was a grunt behind her and she had the impression the alpha was considering. “Is that what you really want?” She asked, words dark with sweet desire. “Or do you want it inside you?”

“Fuck.” The word left Clarke’s lips before she was fully aware. “Do it, just do it. Just don’t knot me.” She closed her eyes, bracing herself against the wall.

But the stretch she was waiting for didn’t come. Instead she felt the glide of Lexa’s long, thick shaft, teasingly stroking against the lips of her cunt, coating the rippling surface in her slick. The alpha was torturously slipping around her, brushing her clit with the nudging, blunt head, and the feel of it was almost enough to make her cum, right then and there, shamefully quickly.

“That’s risky, isn’t it?” The teasing drawl came over her shoulder, Lexa’s teeth grazing the exposed, bare flesh and threatening to bite down. “And right here? Right where anyone could see you rutting in the alley like a common whore?”

Clarke was beyond her ability to protest. She moaned, rolling her hips back against the straining length that, improbably, still was not filling her, and she gave in to her animalistic desires. “Please! _Please_ , Lexa, I need you inside, I don’t care.”

That was all the alpha needed as far as incentive. Lexa shifted, dragging the bulbous head in a sweet glide down to her entrance, and pushed. The tender muscles parted, and Clarke breathed hard at the intrusion, the delicious sting, the stretch, as Lexa filled her in the way that no one before, or since, would ever accomplish. She kept going, until half her length was buried inside of the blonde’s grasping depths, and Clarke keened, letting her fingers clench on the bare brick.

The next thrust had half of her body lifted up in an arch as Lexa bottomed out against her cervix, feeling more like she was nudging up against her heart. The alpha let her adjust, again, and the silent softness of her strokes on Clarke’s back were a comfort beyond words, beyond the roughness of their coupling. She knew how Lexa felt, knew it even now as they fucked in an alley with the sky closing in streaks of red and orange. The subtle way she gave pause made Clarke know for certain that Lexa was as affected as she was, was as drawn into the fire of their passion and heading down into the embers, just as inexorably as Clarke herself. They were bound, as one by the intensity of their flame, and they would burn up, together or apart, until it was done.

But she only had a moment to contemplate their shared fate as Lexa began pumping, in a slow, lazy rhythm that sent wet slapping noises echoing through the brick. Her strokes were deep and hard, and the fullness had Clarke whimpering, raising on her heels to meet Lexa’s languid thrusts. Every motion of the alpha’s cock inside of her had her gasping for air, trying to keep her balance even as her body demanded more, more, more.

“Oh god, Daddy, please, please Daddy,” she chanted, unsure of what she was even asking, as her body eagerly accepted Lexa’s punishing rhythm, opening for more.

Suddenly, Lexa stiffened behind her, and not in a way that signified the precursor to orgasm. She was looking at something, even as her hips sped up their strokes and her cock pistoned in and out of the omega at a blinding pace, but Clarke couldn’t notice or care. She was too concentrated on the wet slide, the brush of the alpha’s base against her swelling, sensitive clit, and she was making little ‘mmm’ and ‘ohh’ noises as she whined, lost in her lust. Lexa took a handful of her hair and bent over her ear, whispering nastily, her voice panting and rough.

“Say you want Daddy’s cock. Say it.”

“Oh god!” Clarke wailed, as a stabbing thrust almost brought her to her knees. She curled against the brick, incoherent, but Lexa wasn’t allowing that. She brought her hand down in a ringing smack against the upturned, moon-pale surface of the blonde’s ass and it brought a surprised yelp.

“Say you want me. Say you want to be mine.” Lexa was insistent, fingers threaded firmly in her hair, breath skating against her throat, and Clarke couldn’t resist. She screamed.

“Oh god yes, _yes_ Lexa, Daddy, yes yes, I’m yours, I’m all yours, _Daddy_ please just _dooon’t_ _stoppp_ -!”

Lexa grunted in smug approval and a challenging snarl erupted from her chest. Clarke felt it rather than heard it, as the alpha ran her hands possessively over her body. The action made the omega howl in earnest, offering herself as completely as a bitch in heat, and she finally chanced a glance over her shoulder to see what it was that Lexa was looking at-

It was Anya.

Standing at the mouth of the alley, holding a bouquet of roses in one hand ( _Roses_ , Clarke thought with sudden dismissive thoroughness, _are so typical and I am not typical at all, what was she thinking_ \- but then her brain remembered to be horrified) the older alpha was watching as her protégé buried her obviously large cock into the woman she’d asked out for a date. There was zero expression on her angular, leonine features; her eyes were as blank as paper. She was looking at the obscene sight of Clarke’s specially-picked-for-this-date dress bunched around her waist as Lexa’s hips jarred into her ass, and her mouth was a thin, harsh line.

Clarke knew, irrevocably, in that moment that she’d ruined things between them, of course, but also, she’d exposed a part of herself that was never meant to be shown, and it wasn’t the obvious pinkness of her dripping, greedy sex. Anya wanted her sweet, domesticated, and loyal. Clarke could be those things, of course, but there was more, there was something deeper. Lexa saw that, the punch-happy spark inside of her that alight with the dominance and the passion, and she grabbed it with greedy fingers, never letting go. Anya didn’t grab her like that. Anya never would. And now, watching her rut with Lexa in the alley, she couldn’t possibly understand or ever want to. Clarke knew she should feel something….guilt, at the very least, or sadness, or anger at herself for allowing things to get so far entangled so quickly in the heat and dark between the brick. But she didn’t. She didn’t feel those things, those predictable, easy things that she wanted to feel.

Instead, she felt lust, dark and unfolding in her belly, and primal possession. Lexa sped up her thrusts, and hunched over her back staring at Anya in a rival challenge posture, and her cock was suddenly huge, throbbing and swelling like it had gained extra vitality. She dug her black-painted nails into the omega’s shoulders and pummeled deeper, snarling like a beast, and it only made the blonde more receptive, more savagely delighted in the primal display.

Clarke looked right back at Anya over her shoulder, and she let out a low, significant moan. She had chosen her alpha. Consequences, proper behavior, and shame be damned. Let it all burn.

She turned her face to the brick then and couldn’t say if Anya had stayed or gone, all was concentrated in the progressively more pleasurable actions of her chosen alpha’s hips connecting to her ass. Lexa was big, and she was hard, and she was gripping into Clarke like she owned her, fucking her into the wall with such thoroughness that Clarke knew she’d be sore tomorrow, sore like she’d been riding a horse all day (which, in a way, she was). Animalistic, savage groaning noises were coming from the alpha, and Clarke knew it wouldn’t be long.

Rocking against her entrance was the swell of Lexa’s knot, hot and heavy. It was pulsing and slapping against her clit, rubbing insistently at the opening of her body as if it knew she wanted it, wanted it to stretch her deeper. And she did.

They’d never gone that far before, in their secret, impassioned trysts in between meetings at H.E.D.A Enterprises. Lexa had always resisted knotting her so far; it was rumored the alpha’s control was absolute, unbreachable. But Clarke wanted it now, wanted it more than anything she’d ever felt in her life. Right here, in this alley, with Anya possibly still watching, she wanted Lexa to breed her.

“Lexa.” She gasped, but no, that wasn’t right. “Daddy.” _There we go_ , her mind helpfully encouraged. _Call her what she is to you_. “Daddy, please, knot me.”

The alpha grunted in surprise behind her, and she felt that tiniest flicker, the slightest hint of the real Lexa under all their posturing and alpha/omega play. She felt Lexa hesitate, and she needed to reassure her, let her know this was wanted, so she rocked her hips back, allowing the bulge of her alpha’s knot to start to split her opening, and that was enough to make them both cry out.

“Please, please Daddy, breed me, breed your little girl.” Clarke was panting, mumbling, out of her mind with pleasure and want, and she felt Lexa succumb to the screaming call of her omega’s instincts. Her hips started to move, almost lazily, and Clarke gasped at the intrusive stretch, making her body shiver and quake for more. “Make me yours, Daddy. _Please_.”

“Right here in the alley, huh?” The alpha’s purr was sweet and mocking, and it only made Clarke arch harder up underneath her, moaning and rocking frantically like she was a wild thing. “Right here where anyone….Anya….could see you beg for my cum, beg to be mine?”

“Fuck!”

The words were sharp and nasty and they were exactly what Clarke needed. She felt her body blossom open and a fresh flood of wetness coated the join of their thighs. The alpha shuddered behind her and then lurched forward, and brought a harsh cry from both of their lips as the knot stretched to the midway point and then, with a final wrenching push of the alpha’s strong hips, clicked securely inside.

The orgasm exploded behind Clarke’s eyelids and wrenched rough, ragged screams from her throat, over and over, uncaring about who would hear them. She felt full, she felt overwhelming pressure and heat and raw force, like it was going to crystallize her from the inside out and rebirth her, diamond-hard, like a brand new being. Waves crashed, again and again, over her and under her and still, she came and came and came, like it was never going to stop. She was shaking, and she’d lost her grip on the wall, so she was grateful that Lexa was holding her up, even as the howling arch of the alpha’s body signified her own release.

Hot, welcoming splashes filled the recesses of her sex, pulsating against her womb, as the eruption of Lexa’s orgasm drowned her cervix and would‘ve been spilling out onto the dirty pavement, had it not been for the barrier of the alpha’s knot, snugly in place. Their bodies were joined, and the release was shared back and forth between them, never-ending explosions of sensation and warmth. Lexa was moaning brokenly into the back of her neck, and her arms were tight around Clarke’s waist, gripping her as if she was an ephemeral thing, made of smoke and secrets. Together they slumped down, onto the creaking wooden planks of a nearby crate, and rested. Inside of Clarke’s body, her alpha’s knot shivered and pulsed, and each time it did, she moaned and came again, and it was a long, long time before the orgasms stopped and they could catch shared, strained breaths together.

After long, unceasing minutes in which time seemed to stretch farther than a river could run, Clarke was able to open her eyes and look around. Anya was gone, and the only remnant of her passing were a few rose petals scattered to the ground. Clarke felt the well of guilt then, rushing up on her and overtaking her senses, and she shook her head angrily. What was she even doing? She’d started this night intending to go for a date with Anya, and now here she was in an alley, actually tied with Lexa. But the guilt wasn’t as strong as she felt it really should be, and her self-admonishment was inefficient for what she felt. There was a languid contentment to her limbs, and the warm, breathing weight of Lexa on her back was comforting, even welcomed.

“Are you okay?” Lexa’s rough, concerned voice awoke her from her stupor of mixed emotions. “Did I hurt you?”

She half-twisted in the alpha’s embrace to look at her, and felt the knot slip out of her in the movement. It had softened enough to escape her body and she gasped, instantly mourning the loss, as a flood of her and Lexa’s pleasure spilled down her thighs. Instinctively, the alpha’s hand shot to down to cup her sore, swollen sex and keep the overflow contained, and the feel of her hand was so comforting and wanted that Clarke’s eyes rolled up and she moaned. Her ears were ringing, faintly.

“I’m okay.” She managed, and Lexa wrapped her arms around her. She couldn’t find it in herself to resist the affection, and so buried her face in the alpha’s chest. “God, I can’t believe we…in front of…and I can’t believe I asked you to do that.”

There was a wry chuckle on the top of her head, and Lexa’s one-armed grip tightened. “If it makes you feel any better, she was long gone.” The brunette alpha assured her.

Clarke nodded slowly. It didn’t, but her guilt and lack thereof were emotions she could process another time, not now when her dress was still rucked up around her hips and cum was softly seeping out of her into Lexa’s strong, warm hand. “So…” She paused. “What happens now?”

There was a lingering moment in which fear ruled her and she thought things would be just like Mount Weather all over again. Lexa would leave and go off to fuck someone else and she’d be crying in an alleyway with cum running down her thighs, and-

The alpha’s gravely, post-sex voice interrupted her mildly panicked thoughts. “Well, I thought I could take you out for dinner, since I denied you that earlier.” She hesitated and Clarke could feel her heartbeat loud and clear before Lexa took a breath and continued. “And then, maybe you could come back to my penthouse and stay the night.”

“I’d like that.” She told the green eyes that searched for hers, as she lifted her chin. “I think you definitely owe me dinner.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [ Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/bitterbones87) for more nonsense and wlw trash


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